Chase The Morning
by MrsMargeryLovett
Summary: Amber Sweet will keep the throne for GeneCo, but only as long as Shilo can not be found. When she appears again, can Shilo hide from the life that Rotti tried to force upon her? Or can she hide long enough to chase the morning? Slight Grilo, only just
1. Chapter 1

The paparazzi had a spree the day Amber Sweet announced she would take over GeneCo. With her father dead, and Shilo Wallace gone, Amber was the next choice in line for the GeneCo throne. Pavi and Luigi soon lost the anger they had when they realised they themselves would not own anything of their father's business. The anger was subsided the moment that they realised that if they had indeed become the owners, they wouldn't have the time for the extravagant parties, the glamorous Genterns who complied to their every need, in more ways than one, nor the simple pleasures of being able to threaten someone without it being publicised on the local newspaper.

Amber Sweet herself adored the life. As the owner of the business, she was able to get surgery whenever she needed it, and no longer had to go down a back alley to supply herself with Zydrate. Her father hadn't enjoyed the idea of her addiction- exactly the reason why he started the Zydrate Support Network, forcing Amber to be the spokeswoman- and disallowed her more than the prescribed amount during surgery. She'd always remembered the pain after surgery that way, though, and swore to herself always to find a large supply with the nearest Graverobber.

To the public, it seemed like the Largo family had it all. And to the Largo family, they felt like they did have it all. They had fame, riches, endless supplies of drugs, and for Pavi's pleasure, enough access to skin grafts that he could take comfort in knowing that he would never go without a fresh face in the morning. Yes, they had everything they needed to settle with a wonderful life. There was only one thing they could not buy, could not find, and could not have.

Certainty.

It was known to the Largo siblings that within their father's will, there was a clause that was written soon after Rotti named Shilo Wallace as his successor. He was certain that, under no circumstances, would his offspring own GeneCo longer than was needed. Of course, if worst came to worst, they could look after it, make sure it did not fall to ruins. He entrusted them with this, and this alone. The siblings were past caring that their father did not trust them, but were concerned about the certainty of their place in GeneCo.

The clause states that if the successor can not be found, or resigns their place, then their leave of absence may not exceed three months. Rotti assumed this period of time long enough for Shilo to gather her senses after the initial shock of being given a business to run, and thought that she would return to GeneCo so as to take her place as its owner. He would not take any chances, though. It was also said that if said successor did not return after the three month period, she would be found by force. It had now been six months, and Shilo Wallace had not yet been found.

Amber had attempted at first to call off the search, but the guards remained faithful to Rotti's will, and would stop at nothing to hunt for Shilo. They were as adamant as the current Repo Man who had taken over from Nathan Wallace's place after his stage death. Amber had quite easily explained Nathan's death, saying that after the opera, he had run away and committed suicide. She quite brilliantly, if anyone who knew about the fact was honest, gave a passing by drug addict a make over and had Luigi throw him into a river, handcuffed to weights. It was the easiest way to cover up the murder, and a plan Amber was sure her father would have been proud of, had he been alive.

The news travelled fast that there was a search for the true heir to the GeneCo throne. Anyone who had been at the opera had thought that it was simply part of the show when Rotti claimed she would be his successor, and had spread the news of the brilliant twist. When it was discovered that the girl who they had first expected to be some actress was the real heir, all havoc had wreaked. Rewards were soon announced, giving hundreds of dollars to the person who found her alive.

Any searches, though, were fruitless. Amber Sweet was happy enough knowing that the girl would not be found, and she would remain as the owner of GeneCo as long as it remained this way. With her position in the business, Amber did not have much time to think, if she did so at all, but she was able to reflect on certain things. The more that this Shilo Wallace was described, the more her pictures appeared pinned up on telegraph poles, the more the face started to become familiar to her. She smirked to herself whenever she thought of Shilo. The first and last time she had seen her clearly was all those months ago when she went downtown for her dose of Zydrate. Amber had, of course, been slightly dazed with the desire for the drug, and only concentrated really on the man who would give it to her, but remembered that young girl who seemed to like Blind Mag's music. Amber never understood how anyone could enjoy that bitch's singing, but it seemed that they did. After that, she had collapsed from the drugs in her system. Amber didn't see the girl after that, not even realising that it was the same Shilo that the previous Repo Man was always talking about.

So was life in the higher levels of the GeneCo building. Amber pondered, Luigi maimed, and Pavi seduced the Genterns. The upper-floor life was one they had been used to before, and yet adored more now that they had the freedom to abuse their fortunate more than ever.

Life below, though, was much the same as it had been for the past years.

Unlicensed drug sources still roamed, prostitutes still followed the source, and people still lived out their lives in the manner they had done before the events of 2036. Few knew for definite what had happened, even fewer were changed at all.

Only one person knew what had happened for sure, but hadn't changed in the slightest.

It didn't matter to New York's own Graverobber that his best customer was now rich enough and powerful enough to gain her own supply. He didn't care much. One customer was just the same as another in his opinion. Anyway, it wasn't like he actually got any money out of her, and any payment he actually did get was, in his own opinion, selfish on her part. Each night, he still roamed the graveyard, and each night he found a good supply of drugs. Zydrate was running low compared to the times when Rotti had been in charge, but there were plenty more drugs to be found. None, though, were bringing in as much money as Zydrate.

"Fucking Amber," he muttered each time he shoved a needle into the corpses that he found. "Obviously doesn't get the idea this is how she got her load."

It the Graverobber's theory that not only was Amber a selfish lover, but also a selfish drug user. The owner of GeneCo would always issue the amount of Zydrate given to a patient during surgery, and she had given much less to the patients than Rotti ever had. The less of the drug a patient had, the less they would have when they died. It was the circle that made the Graverobber's business thrive, and one he had become used to.

Nights passed by in this way. It was a much safer job now that people were searching for Shilo Wallace instead of him. A part of him mourned for the poor thing, forever running from these guards. The rest of him, a much more dominant part of his mind, cried out 'who the fuck cares?'.

It was a dark night of no particular importance that these events changed. The month was November, and the previous night had been Bonfire Night. Therefore the streets were filled with the sound of fireworks that everyone had forgotten to set off the night before, and a thin smoke surrounded the streets. Only one figure could be seen through this smoke- all other people were either hidden in their gardens with fireworks or downtown, surrounding the Graverobber in a festive need for their drugs. The figure walked in no particular direction, but in a way that did not lead onto a confused manner, nor a frightened one. The person's stance was assured, and if anyone had passed by the street they would see it was a young girl.

The girl paused by a lamp post, staring at the poster that was pinned to it.

_Wanted, Shilo Wallace_

_Owner of GeneCo, successor of late Rotti Largo_

_$200 reward if alive_

A picture was set under this of the girl named Shilo, a picture taken when she was fifteen and celebrating a party with her father, whose face had been burnt in a way similar to when a cigarette butt is pressed against a picture. With a swift movement, the person grabbed the poster and ripped it from its place on the lamp post. She twisted it into a tight ball in her hand and threw it to the floor, uttering an incoherent noise of disgust.

She carried on walking, turning abruptly down a side street of no importance to anyone who would be watched. It did, however, hold importance to the girl. She walked on, her pace even and slow, casual. At last, the alleyway opened up into a small area, not much bigger than a children's park. Different people sauntered around, all with the same purposes. She noticed two were slumped against a wall, looking as if they were eating each others faces- the vigour with which they kissed seemed to cause a trickle of blood from one of the people's mouths. There were a group of withdrawn-looking adults, rubbing their hands together in angst. Another group of teenagers were waiting around, attempting to look cool and sophisticated, although a glaze in their eyes told the passer by that they were waiting for some form of drugs.

All of a sudden, a tall figure carrying a sack over his shoulder appeared around the corner, causing a cheer from some of the groups. Some uttered groans similar to ecstasy that caused the girl to wrinkle her nose in disgust. They swarmed the man, who raised a hand, signalling them to move out of his way.

"You'll have to wait in line," he said in a deep, smooth voice. "I'm afraid the Zydrate's going to the highest bidder tonight, children," he continued, laughing at the idea of calling them his 'children'.

"Please!" one cried out, grabbing the man's coat. "Please, I need it!"

"Like I haven't heard that one before," he retorted, pushing the person away. "Come on, line up for your supply."

The girl watched from the alleyway opening, surveying all the addicts that swarmed around the Graverobber. It was a pitiful sight, but she could not help but wish to laugh at the scene. There were few horrific sights in the world to make a person feel better about themselves, and whenever the opportunity to see one came along, you can not help but feel good.

"Last vile!" the Graverobber cried out, bringing the girl back to reality. "You're all gonna have to bid your hearts out for this one."

An uproar was caused at these words, people thrusting their hands in their pockets and holding notes high in the air, calling out different amounts of money. The stranger tutted, and at last made a small movement. She walked towards the group, easily pushing away people as they weakened at the fact that they would not gain the drugs they desired. The girl's visage was solemn, not a trace of humour on her face any more. The Graverobber looked up from those that surrounded him, and a slight shock passed over his face. It was only slight, though, and within the second he smirked again.

"Why, it's our own little heiress," he said, walking to meet the girl in the middle. "Our own little Shilo Wallace."

Those that were still aware of their surroundings gasped, while others were still whimpering about their loss.

"Didn't think you were one to remember an old face," she replied, folding her arms across her chest.

"Kid, I'd never forget one like yours." He attempted to place a hand under her chin, but she pushed the arm away.

"Is that your last vile of Zydrate?" she asked bluntly.

"Didn't think we'd see you drugging it up," he replied.

"Just answer the question."

"Yes, kid, yes it is. Are we interested?"

Shilo looked at the vile he held in his hand, and inspected it slightly.

"It's not the usual glass vile, I can see."

"I ran out," he replied coolly. "Only got the lead one left. Look, are you buying or not?"

"Let me have a look," she demanded, holding out her hand. The Graverobber nodded slightly, handing her the vile. Shilo held it between two fingers, staring at it from all angles. Unexpectedly, she brought it close to her lips and licked the side of it, shuddering once she withdrew it. The Graverobber arched an eyebrow as she gave the vile back.

"It's not Zydrate," she stated simply.

"Would I cheat you, kid?"

"It's not Zydrate," she repeated. "I'm sure of it."

"How?"

"I'd be dead now if it were."

There was a pause between the two, and all of a sudden, he laughed riotously.

"Are you sure?"

"You can't put Zydrate in lead. The drug does something to the lead and makes it poisonous. If it were Zydrate, I'd be dead."

"And how do you know that, little lady?"

"Saw it somewhere," she said, shrugging her thin shoulders. She stared at the Graverobber, who was staring in turn, slightly impressed.

"Looks like you've been learning some stuff, kid."

"More than you know."


	2. Chapter 2

Shilo was surprised none of the addicts on the street noticed that she had revealed the Graverobber planned on tricking them into buying the wrong drug. It didn't bother her much, but the least that they could do was recognise she had done so. He hadn't much noticed either, really. Nor had he worried that anyone else would have noticed. The Graverobber was quiet enough while on the streets, barely talking to her. She could not understand why, again, but took it in her stride. After all, he had never been a very…normal person, to say the least. She would not expect him to speak to her directly for some time.

It was taken for granted by each of them that Shilo should follow him after the drugs had been dispersed. Neither spoke to each other, and the Graverobber only waved Shilo towards him as he jumped onto a slow moving truck, just as he did often enough. She smiled fondly as she remembered the first time she had done this, and looked wistfully as they passed her mother's grave. It was at this point that they jumped off, still quiet.

The Graverobber led the way, not once telling his old companion where they were heading to. Shilo did not complain, and was satisfied enough following him. She had never been disappointed before when doing so, and assumed things could not get much worse. After all, what did he know that could possibly get her into more trouble? Nothing. At least, nothing that would not in turn put him in prison, or worse, against a wall with a firing squad in front of him. Shilo shuddered inwardly at the very thought. Over the past few months, she had seen such things happen. She refused to be the cause of any more deaths.

"What's up, kid?"

Shilo looked up from the ground, noticing that they had come to a stop in the middle of the graveyard.

"I was thinking."

"Not now, obviously. Why're you here?"

"Need to know basis," she muttered in reply. "Thought you'd know all about that."

"Who said?" he retorted lightly. "Just because I don't tell everyone everything, doesn't mean I wouldn't."

"If someone asked about your business, you'd actually tell them?" she asked with an eyebrows raised.

"Well," he began with a shrug, "if they asked nicely."

"You're…" Shilo drifted off, not knowing quite what to say. She sighed irritably, ending with the word: "idiotic."

"That's not how I heard it last time we were here." He smirked, even now impressed by his own abilities. The same could not be said for Shilo, who simply stared at him with a sincerity that he was often not accustomed to.

"Why did you bring me here?" she asked.

"I didn't."

"But-"

"Technically, kid, you followed me. I never told you to."

"That's a pathetic excuse," she said bluntly. The Graverobber only laughed, a careless laugh he had inherited from birth. He looked around the open space, and heavily dropped his bag on the floor, sitting cross legged beside it. Shilo watched as he searched through the bag, until he looked up and beckoned her down beside him.

"You still haven't told me what you're doing back, kid."

"And I told you it's a need to know basis."

"Kid, I'm going to find out anyway, so you might as well just spill it."

She shook her head, tucking her bony knees under her chin. The two were settled into silence again while the Graverobber thought of the best way to persuade her to tell him. From the information he had gathered in the past seven months, there was no real point in coming back. If she ran away, it was only to keep away from the GeneCo business. He couldn't blame her; even he wasn't sure about the power of it all. He preferred to have a business where he kept his hands dirty rather than allowing someone else to do the job for him, and would rather stick to that, thank you very much.

"What the hell happened to your head?" he asked all of a sudden, only just noticing her hair. Shilo ran her fingers self-consciously through the short locks.

"I stopped wearing that wig," she replied. "People noticed me more often."

"Ah, so we know you're running at least," he mused, triumphant.

"Of course I'm running!" she spat. "Why else would I have left?"

"And why else would you have come down my alley? You're right, it was kinda obvious. The question is _why_ you come to my alley? Why would you come back?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

"Why else would I ask, kid?" She bit her lip, unsure. All of her instincts told her not to speak out another word. Then again, where the hell had her instincts ever gotten her before?

"The least likely place I'd be is right here, isn't it?"

"It's always assumed you should look in the most likely place, kid," the Graverobber said. "Runaways always used to go to the least likely places. Then the government expected that. So runaways go to the most likely place. Now, the government expects that. In a few years, you'll have to-"

"Go to the least expected place," Shilo finished.

"At least you're getting the idea."

"Where are you right now?"

"Sitting in the middle of a graveyard?"

"No," she said irritably. "No, are you in the most expected? The least expected?"

"Good question," he said truthfully. "Thing is, kid, I don't have a clue."

A smile was forcibly suppressed by both parties.

"For now, I'm assuming they expect the unexpected," she admitted. "While I'm here, they should think I'm somewhere else."

"You haven't thought this through, have you?"

"No." He laughed briefly, before Shilo cut him off by asking: "Do you ever plan these things out?"

"I don't need to, kid," he said, wiping away a tear. "I'm great at it to begin with."

"Your luck's going to run out one of these days."

"If you keep thinking like that, you'll never get far. Look, kid, I've been in this business since I was younger than you. Do you really think I don't know how to look after myself?"

"You might want to know it, but you're getting old."

At last, the Graverobber seemed truly menaced. Shilo laughed at the look on his face as he grimaced.

"You're as young as you feel, that's what I was told, kid."

"Only in spirit," she reminded him. Shilo took the liberty or tracing on of the wrinkles that betrayed his otherwise masculine and young visage with one slight finger. "But this says otherwise."

The Graverobber batted her hand away, shaking his head in what could either have been dismay or disagreement.

"There's no need to turn this talk against me," he muttered. "I'm only curious as to what you've been doing."

Shilo wrapped her arms around herself tighter, not sure how to answer at first.

"I've been everywhere. I've seen everything. I suppose that's about it."

"Only everything?" he asked, rolling his eyes. "How dull."

"It's not like you can say as much."

"Of course I can. Don't you think I had a life before this one?" He paused, thinking, then laughed. "Before this business, obviously."

"You said you were younger than me when you started."

"Yeah, but I had to start because I was on my own, wasn't I? Before that, you might say I was in a rich enough family. My mum was completely crazed about holidays." He sighed. "Then again, if the bitch had paid me any attention, she would have realised that it was because of those holidays she had malaria. I was the only smart one in the family who wore a surgical mask all the time, and I always wore long sleeves and gloves. It was kinda funny, really. While my dad tried to thwack me round the back of the head for wearing such stupid clothes, he was dying of fucking malaria, right? I got the last laugh."

"You're very depressing, you know that?" Shilo said, disgusted.

"So? All I know is if I hadn't learnt at that age to take care of myself, you wouldn't see me sitting right here, would you?"

"What a loss to the world."

"Hey, you're the one who followed me, kid." He chucked a vial he had been fiddling with in between two fingers back into his bag, leant forward and stared at Shilo as closely as she would allow. "Now, I've told you a little of my story, I think it's your turn."

"You're asking a lot there," she said weakly.

"I've got the time. The sun's not even out yet." Shilo looked up at the sky, just making sure he was right. She'd almost wanted it to be bright, just so that they could leave. It wasn't safe to be out in the sun, where people could see them both. She wanted a reason to be gone, to hide.

"No one guessed who I was when I got out of the opera, you know," she began, still looking at the sky. "All of those people, all of them just waiting for Rotti Largo to come out, they didn't know at the time he was dead. Any of them that had been called during the show thought that some amazing performance had gone on where Rotti himself acted the part of a dying man. Some people just didn't believe that he actually was dying, even when he said so in front of so many people. So, they just looked at me like I was one of the actresses, seeing as I was covered in blood and all. I'd already gotten over the fact. My dad's death didn't seem that big a deal afterwards. He'd already told me not to worry, and what with the fact that less than a half hour beforehand I'd found out he killed people, the shock sort of brought me out of mourning.

"So I spent probably an hour back at my house, getting some things. I knew Rotti had already signed the deed to GeneCo, he was just fooling around saying that he needed me to kill my dad first. It was best that I was out of the way rather than going into the business. I didn't want to be the one who had people killed, it was painful enough seeing Mag dead. I know it was a lot different than a complete stranger. I mean, she was my godmother. Still, anyone else who I had killed could have been someone's father, someone's mother, anyone's relative really. That's why I left in the first place. The power would have become too much. I forgot I was actually wearing my wig for a while. That's when people started noticing me. Posters have been put up as far as Missouri, you know. That's about as far as I travelled, and it was kind of weird seeing my face everywhere. One man spotted me right next to one of the posters, and you should have seen his face when he realised how much money he could have gotten. He kidnapped me and locked me in his basement for about two days while some people came along to collect me. It wasn't too hard to escape. He had two children, both about five years old, and you wouldn't believe how helpful toddlers can be when you have a candy bar in your pocket.

"That's when I stopped wearing the wig. That guy had noticed me far too easily. I tried not to think about the fact that he was probably dead by the time I left. The GeneCo guards never really had much patience with liars- or at least people they thought were liars. Served him right, really. At least he wouldn't be kidnapping anyone else. I kept going after that, without the wig. A few people stared, but more out of shock than realising who I was. I'd managed to stay undercover for a while, making a friend or two in each city before moving on, in case someone would soon find me. I was in New Jersey, I think, when someone died first. He was in the same business as you, actually, just a little more suave about it. And cleaner. He was sweet, really, except for at night. I always stayed up in the apartment we shared while he carried out the business- it was too disturbing to watch. He let some customers pay in the same way Amber Sweet did sometimes. Apart from that, you couldn't have asked for a sweeter guy. Not that we were dating or anything. He was just a great friend. But someone with a sharp eye noticed me after looking at a poster, and saw who I was. I ran in time to miss the cops, but they got Drusus- that was his name. I didn't find out what happened to him until someone passed along a message to me through a chain line of gossip saying they'd tried to torture him into telling them where I was. I waited around a while, just to see if he'd stayed faithful. To my pain, he had. I almost wished he had told, just to make his pain worthwhile- it would have been taken out on me sooner or later.

"That was when things got extremely serious. I started taking on different disguises, resorting to everything except surgery. I think someone punched me in the face once on command, just so I could sport a black eye. I kinda miss the look, actually. Still, I don't think I'll do it again. Anyway, things happened like that a few times. Sometimes I made friends with normal civilians, but they would still be caught and tortured. Sometimes they would be utter assholes that I only liked for some demented reason or for the same reason I followed you. They were interesting. Each and every one that got too close ended up dead, or at least lost to the world.

"When I came here, you were the first person I thought about. I know I really shouldn't, what with the whole death thing. But you're the best out of the lot I've known at hiding. I mean, you can alert people of a Graverobber in the middle of an open field and still get away. I don't know how you do it, but all I know is that you can. It doesn't matter how long that'll last, even if the talent is disappearing after all these years. I just want you to know that…well, I need help. I need to be hidden. And I know you'd help me, you've been doing that constantly for God knows how long. I remind you, if you dared turn me in, I know everywhere that you go, and I know Amber Sweet does to. Do you think she'd be very impressed at losing her place in GeneCo? That's why I came here, for help."


	3. Chapter 3

The Graverobber liked to think that it was pity that made him bring Shilo back to his filthy apartment. However, he could not deny that it was mostly a mixture of the fact that he absolutely did not want to get caught, and he had always her kind of hot. The fact was hidden quite well in his opinion, although if he were to ask, Shilo would most likely have replied along the lines of 'I wasn't really paying attention'. Shilo herself could not help but be slightly disgusted with the apartment, but decided the lodgings were better than nothing. Hell, they were better than she had expected, to say the least.

"Judging?" he asked as he threw his bag onto a nearby sofa- or, to use a better term, pile of fabric that clung pitifully to a broken frame.

"Definitely."

He smiled slightly, pointing towards a room across from the front door.

"You can take that room, if you like. Or, if it suits your fancy, we have a brilliant sofa right here."

"Would I lower myself to that?" she asked, raising her eyebrow mockingly.

"I guess not," he replied with a shrug. Without another word, Shilo retreated to the room that had been assigned to her, and slept better than she had in months.

While she slept, she was unaware of the Graverobber's actions after she left, as most people would be when unconscious. He sat in the questionable sofa for a while, pondering for a while over the girl who slept soundly in his bedroom- he never much used it at night, so it wasn't as if he minded giving it to her. Anyway, the sofa was comfortable enough. He never got why people found it bumpy. Maybe they just weren't pleased all too easily.

He sighed, thinking for a moment. The sky outside was still a deep purple, so he knew there were hours left until he sun rose and Shilo woke up. He delved back into his bag, retrieving a large, old-fashioned mobile phone, the sort that he had been told people were more used to in the twentieth century rather than twenty first. Still, it was what he was used to, and it wasn't like he could just go into a shop and buy another. He was good at hiding, but not that good. Sighing heavily to himself, he dialled the number, and waited.

"_Amber Sweet on the line_," said a slightly fuzzy voice down the line.

"Guess who," he said in a humorous tone.

"_Jesus…_" she said, trailing off in shock. "_Wait, how'd the fuck did _you _get this number?_"

"Well, I needed to call you without your bloody secretary, didn't I? And what I need, or want, I get, as well you know."

"_What the fuck do you want?_" Amber persisted.

"Just thought I'd give you a little warning, Sweet."

"_Warning?_"

"Well, if we're going to be so rude about it, Sweet, I don't think I'll-"

"_I'll listen,_" she said quickly. "_Just tell me._"

"Just tell me…"

"_Please,_" she added reluctantly. "_Just tell me, please._"

"That wasn't so hard, was it now?" The Graverobber laughed, triumphant. "It's about that little thing you might like to call a throne."

"_What about it?_"

"Turns out it isn't as assured as you might have thought."

There was a pause down the line, just as he had expected. He almost wished to laugh out loud again. If there was one thing in this world he adored, it was leaving the most fucking disrespectful girl in America speechless. He didn't often manage to do that. Even when she'd finished a payment, he had never quite managed to keep her silent.

"_You've found her, haven't you._"

"That would be divulging important information, Sweet, wouldn't it now? And would I do that without a price?"

"_You were never one to be that desperate,_" she snickered down the phone. Pausing to silently gag dramatically, the Graverobber shook his head pityingly.

"Not that, Sweet. I'm running low here on supplies and I hear you happen to have access to some. Just a rumour."

"_And you honestly think I'd just give you drugs just so that my guards aren't told something by the most untrustworthy guy in town?_"

"Oooh, untrustworthy. It's been a long time since you've said a big word like that, hasn't it, doll?"

"_Stop screwing around,_" Amber snapped. "_Is this the only reason you decided to tell me about the girl?_"

"I'll have you know she has a name."

"_Well done, you're paying attention to people's names now. Thought you just knew the ones you fucked or drugged up._"

"Language, dear, language."

"_Stop it. Just tell me why you thought of telling me._"

"Like I said, I'm running low on supplies."

"_How long would you be thinking of milking that cow?_"

"Just you, Sweet. I'd say just about as long as the kid's here."

"_Which would be?_"

"By the sounds of it, just as long as I'm still on the streets."

"_But…why?_"

"You don't think my company's simply that interesting, Sweet?"

"_Not by what I've had to go by._"

"Then if you must know, security."

"_Security?_"

"I'm guessing as long as someone's there to stop her from getting caught, she's happy."

"_Since when did you care about making anyone happy?_"

"Look who's talking. What was it we used to call you?"

"_Anything but frigid._"

"Ah, there's one we hadn't thought about. We preferred Selfish in Bed."

"_Is there a point to this?_"

"Hey, Sweet, you started it. Anyway, as long as I've got her around, I've got all the drugs I need from you."

"_I never agreed to it yet._"

"What choice do you have? You know I won't have much of a problem in turning the kid in, and where would that leave you?"

"_Would anyone believe you if you told them where she was?_"

"Good point, but it'd be easy enough actually bringing her, wouldn't it? Sweet, you know I've thought this through, I'm not stupid."

"_Never said you were. An ass, maybe, but not stupid._"

"Isn't that just lovely? I think we're done with the chat up lines, Sweet, it's time you make a decision."

"_What do you think?_"

"Am I not gonna get a thanks for this?"

"_Yeah, seeing as you did absolutely so much to earn one. What the fuck do you expect a thank you for?_"

"For not turning the kid in even without your permission." There was another pause down the line, and finally an irritable moan.

"_I could just as easily have you arrested, you know._"

"Sweet, we know you wouldn't do that, don't we?"

"_Or maybe I'm just that merciful,_" she said, although even Amber Sweet couldn't believe those words. "_Fine, thanks._"

"Thanks what?"

"_Thanks for keeping my job safe,_" Amber said, her teeth clenched.

"Well, I'm pretty sure you know how to get me, Sweet," the Graverobber said, his smile returning to him. "I'll be expecting my first delivery in about a week, got it?"

"_Whatever, just get the hell of the line, okay?"_

With that, he cut the line, chuckling to himself. Oh, there really was nothing sweeter than getting revenge on Amber Sweet.


	4. Chapter 4

She didn't trust the Graverobber at all, not one bit, but Amber Sweet knew well enough he wasn't one to go back on his word. Especially where drugs were concerned. In the inconspicuous way she had been used to ordering drugs for herself, she managed to send his supply without any questions asked. Amber had learnt not to be fearful of anyone leaking out this information. No one really cared. She wasn't dumb, she knew no one who worked for her actually like her. It wasn't like this didn't work to her advantage. When no one likes you, they don't often want to pry into your life too much. They're usually scared that what they find will turn them against you more, and people didn't like that idea about Amber Sweet.

The Graverobber himself was still slightly shocked he managed to make such a deal without being caught. Sometimes he even surprised himself. Anyone who didn't know him would never be able to understand how he was able to ever doubt himself, and even the Graverobber wasn't sure how he could doubt his abilities. But, like Shilo had said, he wasn't getting any younger.

Shilo didn't have much of a problem reminding him of this fact. Every night she would wait around the apartment, sitting on the lumpy sofa- having gotten used to it- and tell him in a delightful tone that she thought he was getting far too old for his business. This, of course, was always proved right post comment by an appropriate groan as he threw his bag over his shoulder. It was one of the rare things that made him actually want to get rid of the kid, but his more intrigued side got the better of him, and she was always safe to stay for another week or so. It was the way they worked things out, really. Week by week.

The Graverobber didn't really notice much different in his life apart from this small little interruption that he only ever had to bother with once a day. He got all the drugs he needed for the business, with the added bonus that he didn't have to stick bloody needles up corpses. Not that he didn't miss that part of the job slightly, but it was a bonus nonetheless, and he knew well enough to take hold of such advantages. Apart from that, he barely noticed the girl that would often just wander around the apartment, or better yet just sit there quietly. He liked it well enough. He'd never had a pet before, and this was obviously the closest thing he would get to one. Dogs seemed to have a habit of dying around him, and he'd lost count of the amount of fish he had to flush when he was a kid.

Shilo herself knew she was nothing more than a pet to him. Something that took up space, needed feeding once or twice a day, but served the Graverobber well enough as a companion without any speech needed between the two. It wasn't that she minded. Best that he treat her with a distance and carelessness than any affection that might induce regret if the police found him. As long as a distance was maintained between them, she didn't care.

Life was good enough for the Graverobber and his new companion, but the same could not be said for those who lived their lives in the GeneCo building. At this moment in time where we continue this story, Amber sat on a large sofa that she had put in her office, biting her thumbnail in angst. Now, not many thoughts would usually run through her head, but today they varied considerably. All she could ask herself was how to avoid the next payment she would be forced to give. Although it was really no skin of her shoulder, to put a phrase to it, she could not help but be aggravated at having to pay _him _for anything. Sure, fuck him when the time came to it, but what use was there in honest trade?

"Move," said an abrupt voice that Amber knew too well. She clenched her fists, staring darkly at her brother.

"What do you want?" she asked as he slumped heavily into the place beside her.

"Your room has the biggest TV," he said bluntly, nudging her pointedly out of the way. She had not been planning on watching the wide screen at all, but that same defensive instinct that took over her every time someone wanted something she had kicked in and she elbowed his rib sharply as he reached for the remote.

"Go fuck a Gentern or something, I'm busy."

"You're not even watching it!" Luigi said, his voice growing alongside the vein on his forehead. Amber sneered proudly.

"Losing your temper already?"

"Shut the fuck up," he muttered.

"Go on, you know you're getting angry. Of course, we all know you're not allowed to let it out any more, so all that's left for me is to tell you just how mad you're getting, eh?"

"I said shut the fuck up!" he snarled, his own fists clenching tightly.

"Well, you know-"

Amber was cut off sharply as Luigi growled in rage and, with a knife suddenly in his hands, he held it to her neck. She didn't have a clue where he got these knives most of the time. Maybe he stuck them up his arse or something, but she really didn't want to know if that was the fact. Luigi straddled his sister crudely, his knife playing around the hollow of her throat.

"I told you you two should fuck," said a cheerful voice at the door. The two siblings looked up, equally annoyed to see a third sibling in the room, just as irritating as the other two summed up.

"Go away, Pavi," Amber said tiredly. "That goes for you too, Luigi, I'm thinking."

"Come on, as if you actually think," Luigi said, returning to a more mocking tone than enraged.

"I was, as a matter of fact."

"How many thoughts could there be up there?" Pavi asked, sniggering. Luigi nodded, slightly impressed at the joke put at the expense of his sister. It was a pathetic one, but anything said to demean her was good enough for him. He didn't care that his position was still just as good as the owner of GeneCo- he still didn't have the position for himself.

"That's none of your business, is it? Just go, now."

"No problem," Pavi said, still laughing to himself. "Just a few minutes more to spend on my ladies."

"Technically, they're mine," Amber said grudgingly.

"What exactly are you going to be using them for?" he asked, almost daring her. Amber glared at him bitterly, waving a hand at him to dismiss him. Having a libido that outweighed his wish to annoy his sister, Pavi left. Luigi remained, pretty much entertained enough sitting around and bugging Amber, whose own temperament was beginning to waver.

Adamant on ignoring her brother, Amber Sweet continued to concentrate on her thoughts and plans. There were very few at hand, really. She could either stop giving the drugs, and the Graverobber would most likely drag Shilo Wallace in and throw her at Amber's feet. Or she could continue giving them in exchange for her position in GeneCo, and be found out some way or another. It was a tricky one to say the least.

These thoughts carried on even throughout the night. Amber Sweet rarely dreamt- she was too out of it to really remember- but when she did, those dreams never failed to confuse her even more. Tonight was no different. Her mind played out each scenario, although she admitted only to herself that perhaps Shilo was slightly fatter than your average teenager due to reasonable hatred for the girl. And, as is usual between those who mutually hate each other, she saw the Graverobber as a much older and manic creature rather than man. Such was the way that the subconscious mind works.

Nights went by like this for a while. Amber had never been very superstitious, as no one really could say they were these days, but she knew very well that something was going on. To be honest, she didn't much care.


	5. Chapter 5

It wasn't like Shilo didn't know she was hanging on a thread. She knew well enough that any minute now, the Graverobber could just get bored of her and either leave her on the street, or, if he wanted excitement, take her to GeneCo by force. So, to say the least, she was always at least a little agitated. That was one of the things that kept her entertaining in his eyes. That and her underwear drawer, but for her own sake she pretended not to notice the perverted nature with which he searched through her things. Shilo just took it as part of her new life. At least, she did, until she slipped up. All it took was that one time…

"Where did you put them?" she asked as she stormed into the kitchen- or, to put it clearly, tiled room that did not contain a toilet but instead a sink that held either muddy water or potato soup- with her hands on her bony waist.

The Graverobber looked up as innocently as he could muster from his newspaper, torn between the amusement he gained from looking at her angered face and the interest he held in the storyline in the headlines, _rise in drug crimes in streets of New York_.

"You could start by telling me what _them_ is."

"You know exactly what I mean!" she seethed, clenching her fists. "I know you've been in my room again."

"Who said I'd ever been in that room since you moved in?"

"Me."

"And what evidence do you have that I have been?" Shilo paused, a furious blush coming to her often pale cheeks.

"Don't make me say it," she said, her voice trembling slightly with rage.

"Say what?"

"You know what!"

"Obviously I don't, otherwise I would ask." Shilo shook her head, as if trying to rid her mind of all the anger she held. It was impossible, of course, but it calmed her at least slightly.

"There's something that's been taken from my room," she said through gritted teeth.

"What was it?"

"Something."

"Something can mean anything, kid. Tell me what it is that's missing."

Shilo, by now, was shaking. She uttered an incoherent scream of rage and turned quickly.

"Fine, I won't say!"

"Kid, get back here," the Graverobber called after her lazily.

"If you're not going to take it seriously then I'm not even going to bother trying!"

"You're gonna wake the neighbours, kid, so shut up." She spun quickly on her heel, shaking her head in a confused and piteous manner.

"But…it's…one o'clock…in the afternoon…" She trailed off, trying to make any sense of what her room mate had just said.

"Kid, you started this big deal, so finish it. What's gone missing?"

Uttering one last sound of anger that one usually utters when enraged, she moved again to stand in front of him, folding her arms across her chest and glaring at him, summoning all the look of hatred she could find.

"Someone- no, wait, _you_- stole something from my top left drawer."

"What's in the top left drawer?" he asked nonchalantly, a smile threatening his calm demeanour. Shilo saw the corner of his lip twitch, causing her to blush even more violently.

"My…underwear."

"Well, kid, I'm pretty sure I've seen all sorts of underwear around the house. You're not the only girl who comes in here most of the time. All sorts of panties end up on the floors or ceiling fans. What I wanna know is how am I supposed to know yours from anyone else's?"

"How about a pair small enough to fit?" she asked, thinking it obvious enough.

"Do you really think that question makes a difference?" Shilo paused, and shuddered, thinking of many disturbing ways in which that single question could have expressed innuendos that she herself could not stand to imagine.

"They were black?"

"No, still not precise." Shilo sighed heavily, and then closed her eyes, bracing herself for her embarrassment.

"It's a…thong," she muttered, her knuckles turning whiter as she clenched her fists tightly. There was a silence in the room as the Graverobber stared at her thoughtfully, placing a finger to his chin in thought. Suddenly, to break the silence, he snapped his fingers and nodded.

"I think I know what you mean," he said brightly. After the most brief of pauses, he thrust his hand into his pocket, and pulled out a thin bit of material. "Is this it?"

Shilo looked form the Graverobber's pale face to the underwear he held casually in his face. The blush that had been in her cheeks now went to extraordinary depths, turning practically her whole face red. She breathed in deeply, exaggerating her attempts to stay calm and composed, but within the five seconds that followed, she lost it. With a pitiful growl, she pounced upon him, clutching at the lapels of his shabby jacket.

"You bastard!" she screeched, slapping him across the cheek. He only laughed in reply, easily taking hold of her wrists and halting her actions. "Why would you look through my clothes?!"

"I was bored," he said with a shrug.

"And you decided that the best way to stop boredom was to search through a teenager's underwear?"

"Here's me thinking you'd grown up a little," he laughed. Shilo brought her knee up weakly at his stomach, but it barely touched him, let alone caused any blow to him. She sighed heavily, pushing away from him and quickly springing to her feet.

"You really are a bastard," she hissed, turning her back on him slightly.

"Tell me something I don't know, kid."

"There can't be a name in the book you haven't heard."

"I think you hit the nail on the head there," he said, still grinning manically.

"And it'll be below the belt next time if you're not careful," she muttered.

"Doth my ears deceive me?" he asked, bringing his head close to her ear mockingly. "The kid's got balls all of a sudden. Taking a little bit of a risk, threatening your landlord."

"I may be patient, but I'm only human."

"That'll do no good here, kid," he said. "Knowing you, you'll need the virtue of an angel."

"You do know how pitiful that sounded, right?"

"Might have sounded sad, but it's true enough, you know."

Shilo sighed, letting her arms swing by her side again. Turning to study the Graverobber, ridiculing her with the best of her abilities, she grimaced.

"Why go for a girl's underwear, anyway?" she asked bitterly. "You've got drugs, and I'm pretty sure I've seen porn stashed in that thing you call a sofa."

"Firstly, if you want to live here, you do not refer to the sofa as 'that thing'," he said, raising a finger with mock warning. "Secondly, I don't think drugs compare to an eighteen year old's underwear."

"You're still not going to apologise?"

The Graverobber stood, and bowed lowly, smiling that same, sickening smile.

"I am dearly sorry," he began, "for leaving out porn where you could see it," he finished, causing Shilo to shriek out loud again and walk briskly to her room.

"Keep them, then!" she screeched. "Looks like you'll make good enough use out of them!" she added as she slammed her door behind her. The Graverobber laughed a low laugh, deep from his chest, holding the flimsy material in his hand and staring at it from an angle.

"I knew she'd be fun," he muttered to himself.


	6. Chapter 6

Neither of the two who lived in that dingy flat took much notice of how much time had gone by since Shilo moved in. If they did, they were certain they would be driven mad. After all, neither of them took much pleasure in being forced to live with each other. Shilo detested having to live with someone who fucked cheap whores or just personal friends on the sofa, and the Graverobber wasn't all too pleased that said cheap whores or personal friends hung around because of the 'new friend'. They only allowed the other one to live, as each of them were quite capable of killing the other- Shilo using her connections with GeneCo, the Graverobber simply having a knife always hidden in a place he knew the young lady wouldn't want to go- was because they each had a slight value of entertainment to the other.

However, Shilo had long been plotting a way to exact revenge on the Graverobber. It wasn't like it would be hard for her to do. She had learnt to be crafty quite a while ago, and it was like a hobby for her- what else could she do without her bugs? That was enough to occupy her during the nights where she had nothing else to block out the sounds of orgasmic moans from the other room. It was either that or try and tell who was faking it. And which would benefit her more now?

There were, of course, those rare nights where no one would be in their living room at all. It was on these nights that she had nothing much to concentrate on at all. It was these nights that droned on. The Graverobber would always be out for most of the night, dealing his drugs. Shilo could not deny that although she did not feel lonely on these nights, she was not entirely safe. After all, it was a rough neighbourhood, and she guessed that the only reason she hadn't been raped or murdered by this point was because the Graverobber was there. He was low, but she doubted that he would allow anyone else to touch his little 'pet'.

Of course, it didn't take her long to realise that her fear had more or less founded her revenge on the Graverobber. It seemed most probable that he'd get angry if she dated, and it wasn't like she wouldn't be able to. Even if she wasn't as pretty or sexy as other people, she could just as easily have said 'I know the Graverobber' to get a date as well as repel one. Knowing she had a plan was enough to settle her through the more dangerous nights, and satisfied her through the slightly louder ones.

It didn't take too long to get noticed, really. One night while her room mate was out on the streets again, all she really had to do was stand at the doorway until someone came by. After all, it was about the time of night where people were getting home, either because they were frightened or because there was nothing left to do. Most of the people who lived in the building were more often than not out of it by nine o'clock, so she seemed more or less the sexiest woman alive by eleven to anyone who might have seen her. Eventually, of course, someone did come by. Shilo wrinkled her nose slightly at the sight of him, but swallowed her pride and stared after him. In return, he stared right back.

"You're _his_ roommate, aren't you?" the boy asked, nodding briskly at the doorway.

"Depends who you mean be 'he'," Shilo replied.

"The drug dealer one, pale face and all."

"Then yeah, I'm his roommate," she said, cocking an eyebrow. "Why'd you ask?"

"Just…wondering," he said, looking the girl up and down with hesitant eyes. "Is he in?" Shilo smiled, sure enough that her plan was working.

"Won't be back 'til gone midnight, I guess," she said, turning towards the apartment. "You wanna come in?" She could tell by the awkward grin on his face that he was more than eager to do so. He nodded lightly, as if his expression hadn't said it already.

If she were truly honest with herself, Shilo would have guessed it took her perhaps five minutes at most to finally kiss the guy. About three minutes after that, they lay in bed, the boy whose name Shilo still did not know lying on top of her. Six minutes after that, it was all over. She had expected revenge to be sweeter, or at least she expected to have a little more time to cherish the revenge. However, she thought to herself as her short-lived lover rushed out of the door, noticing that the Graverobber could appear at any moment, it was probably not the greatest idea to loose her virginity, at the same time exacting revenge, to a recently drugged up young man. She guessed it wasn't the best way to do it. Nevertheless, the deed was done, and she needn't have bothered complaining about it now.

At around half past midnight, Shilo couldn't stand sleeping in the bed sheets much longer, and with detestation for the fact, she grabbed her pillow and dragged it with her to the sofa, which seemed to have deteriorated into more of a few cushions propped up rather than material that somewhat resembled a chair. It seemed the most comforting thing to sleep on for the time being to her, though, and so she lazily threw the pillow onto the sofa and lay down heavily.

It wasn't very much longer afterwards before the Graverobber appeared in the apartment again. The day had been profitable, and he could not say that he was less than happy with the haul. He threw his bag across the room into a corner, stretching with some satisfaction. He briefly stole a glance of the night outside through the window. It was practically black outside, without even the moon to give a slight blue tinge to it. It was these sort of nights that he enjoyed- no one could see him. It was only when he turned around at that moment that he realised Shilo lying there on the sofa, peacefully asleep.

For him, it was a curious thing to see someone so tranquil in the house. She seemed so innocent, simply lying there with a quaint expression upon her face. Shilo barely moved, the only sign of life being the steady rise of her chest as she breathed. Of course, he had always made a point of looking at her chest, but now it seemed to come in handy. With curiosity, he knelt down by her head, staring with interest at the sleeping girl. After all, it was rare that he got to see this sort of thing. He'd never watched anyone sleep before. Especially not at such a young age.

Feeling his expression soften, the Graverobber brushed a strand of hair from Shilo's face. She did not stir, remaining still after the slight contact. He did not know whether this disturbed him or became an endearing feature. It was strange, then, that with a deep and thoughtful sigh, he should grab the pillow from beneath the girl's head and, before she could fully awaken, beat her around the head with it. Shilo awakened, squealing as if she had been attacked. She rubbed her eyes, and saw the Graverobber staring at her with a malicious laughter in his eyes.

"What the fuck did you do that for?" she asked shrilly.

"You wanna make a big deal about the couch, then you sleep in your own bed," he said.

"I felt like sleeping here tonight," she defended.

"Tough, kid, it's late."

"Then go and use the other bed or something," Shilo murmured, grabbing the pillow back from him. He stared for a moment, thinking. With a knowing smile, he murmured closely to her ear:

"Either you move back, or I sleep here with you."

She paused, still again as if she had been asleep again. Then, with an irritable groan, she flung her hand out towards the Graverobber's face. It landed with a pitiful smack, barely effecting him. Shilo clutched her pillow and walked with her shoulders tensed in anger.

"Utter idiot," she muttered as she left, slamming the bedroom door behind her.


	7. Chapter 7

Although she had long gotten over the urge to do so, Amber Sweet often thought as she sat behind her desk in the GeneCo office about the times when it was all too easy to go down a back alley for her hit of Z. It was easier still now that she was the owner of such a large organisation, but she could not help but long for that filth she had become used to. After all, it wasn't often she got fucked nowadays, what with everyone being too frightened of her. She got used to it, though, and although she missed her weekly routine, she supposed there was more dignity in her status now.

Months went by where she contemplated over these ideas, wondering, contemplating. It was all she had left to do now, and to be honest it didn't appease to her very much at all. Still, when push comes to shove, she thought, is it not better to have something on your mind to occupy you if nothing else will. Dear God how she wished something would distract her.

Of course, whenever this wish was granted, it would always be in a manner which displeased her. It would more often than not take the form of her brothers. Amber would often become confused at why she detested her brothers to such a degree, but then at this point they would always enter the room and she would find out why. Despite the fact that you could rarely get two closer siblings, the two of them argued incessantly. Under any other conditions they would be tepid and without much fuss between them.

Who dared to expect such a thing to happen?

At rare times, Amber would find herself with files that needed to be read and documents that needed to be signed. Although she did not care for them at all, it was better than thinking. It did not help, though, that her brothers insisted on watching the wide screen television while she worked. She wouldn't have minded if it had been a normal family. It wasn't the fact that they couldn't agree on what to watch that bothered her. It wasn't the fact that they always wanted to sit in the exact same spot either.

It was the fact that no matter how many times they went through the process of making sandwiches, they only ever ended up making one.

So the arguing began again.

Rubbing her highly manicured temples- a task GeneCo had only managed to do for a few years now- Amber glared at her brothers who now persisted in grappling, their hands at each others throats. It was a common sight, but one that still proceeded to annoy her with each time it came round. She placed down the file she was reviewing and watched them a moment before finally groaning in irritation and walking towards the two just as Luigi pulled his knife from wherever it is he left it- something that still remained a mystery to the Largo family.

"What the fucking hell are you doing?" she shrieked above the noise. Of course, this simple shrill voice had always been able to make her brothers freeze in shock of the sound.

"He stole the sandwich," Luigi said, his knife still pointing at Pavi who was smiling slightly.

"I made it."

"Then make another or something, I'm busy here." At this, Luigi scowled, throwing the knife across the room and getting to his feet.

"I told you to make another," he growled. Pavi laughed, clutching his side.

"You should have done it then!" he replied through laughter. Amber clenched her fists, gritting her teeth, and with another irritable groan she went back to her desk. The idiocy of her brothers never ceased to amaze her, but amazement was not at all what she needed at this moment in time.

Not too far away- in fact, much closer than Amber Sweet could expect or want- Shilo herself rubbed her temples, a much less manicured version of Amber's, and stared at the young boy she had fucked only a few nights ago. She still wasn't sure of his name; something like Clayton, Carl, Casanova, anything beginning with a 'c'. She couldn't tell, really, seeing as he kept mumbling in a drug induced haze. At this very moment in time, she was pacing the floor as he rocked gently on the bed, muttering some incoherent words about how his drug supply had been cut off. It seemed to be taking its toll on him, to say the least.

"He's gonna be back any minute now, you know," Shilo reminded the boy after a while.

"I'm already dying," he moaned, pulling out a few strands of hair. "Honestly, he pushed me to smoking tea bags- fucking tea bags! He's trying to kill me."

"If you don't leave now he's going to kill you soon enough."

"Then why can't he get it over with?" he asked droningly, lying heavily on the bed. Shilo gritted her teeth.

"If he doesn't do it I bloody well will."

Not having heard her, Clayton, Carl or Casanova groaned and rolled helplessly over liked a fish out of water. Shilo leant against the doorframe with her arms folded, listening intently for a sound from the living room. Obviously, fate being the bitch it usually is, it did not take long before she heard the Graverobber's footsteps and the door slam behind him as he threw his bag to the floor.

"And that's my cue," she muttered, moving towards the boy on the bed.

Meanwhile, the Graverobber took little to no notice of anything that went on in the room. Not that he could hear, of course. Even if he could hear, it wouldn't bother him that much. At least, not as much as Shilo would at first have thought. He took hold of a newspaper and sat lazily on the sofa, reading in the same fashion he usually did. There were only a few minutes of peace before Shilo emerged from her room, carrying a rather indented and now deep red shoe. The Graverobber looked up from the newspaper and watched Shilo with light amusement.

"I'm guessing that's what you were doing in there, then?" he asked, nodding at the bloodied shoe.

"Doing what?" Shilo asked with deep innocence.

"Beating that guy with a shoe. I didn't think you were one for sadism in the bedroom."

"How'd you know about him?"

"Kid, you're not the best at keeping secrets for long." Shilo nodded, throwing her shoe towards the door.

"He was bugging me. Anyway, he was going on about death so much I thought someone should put him out of his misery."

"Cruel to be kind?" He nodded approvingly. "Didn't think you had it in you."

Shilo smiled with slight gratification and opened the front door, kicking her shoe out into the hallway. After all, it wasn't any use to her now.

"I'm expecting you to clean him up in there, you know."

"Seems fair," Shilo shrugged.

"Can I ask you something kid?" the Graverobber asked as he lay the newspaper on the coffee table.

"It's about him, isn't it?"

"How'd you guess? Anyway, I can think of about a million guys who'd be willing for a free reason to fuck you, so why choose him?"

"First guy who came down the hallway."

"Why'd you need to find someone anyway? You don't seem the type to be that desperate."

"Because you were bugging me," she answered honestly. "And you were always kind of protective. I thought it'd be the best way to get back at you for annoying me so much."

"And you couldn't even be bothered to find someone who wasn't taking drugs?" Shilo paused, contemplating his words. Finally, she nodded.

"Good point."

"Just remember that for next time. Believe me, drug addicts aren't what you call the most talented lovers."

"Oh, and I'm guessing you are?"

"Well, I'm no addict, so yeah."

"Are you telling my you're not an addict?" she asked in slight amazement.

"Never try any of your own produce, kid, it's one of my rules."

"So you've not even tried it? Not at all?"

"Nope." Shilo blinked twice, still slightly dumbfounded. However, it passed quickly, and she regained curiosity.

"Why're you bothering to tell me this?"

"Why not?" he asked, shrugging.

With that, Shilo was pretty sure she wouldn't get anything else out of him for the rest of the night.


	8. Chapter 8

It seemed to anyone who may have observed the two that moving a dead body was the one thing that they needed to bond. The moment that the body was dropped into the nearest river, they gave into the desire that neither at all knew they had. Afterwards, they simply put it to the 'mood of the moment', ignoring the fact that most people would not have thought of dead corpses floating in the river as romantic, or even remotely a turn on. Not that they planned to stop at all, not by a long shot. It wasn't only Amber Sweet who could get a little bit bored of being chaste.

Shilo could barely stand the idea of arguing herself out of the relationship she had so easily dropped herself in. The Graverobber did not dare call it such a hideous word like 'relationship', and inwardly preferred the term 'fuck buddies'. After all, that's all they did. It wasn't like they talked. It wasn't like they'd ever had a date. The closest they ever got to the latter was the fact that Shilo now followed the Graverobber down to the alleyway as he sold the drugs. He hadn't learnt to trust her alone in the flat any more, and it was better to have a little company that didn't just groan, or cling to his leg like a bitch in heat.

The two expected very little to have any more fuss made of them. Although Shilo's hair was growing back rapidly, making her more recognisable, she had no trouble at all cutting it off again. She wasn't willing to risk being remembered now, and doubted she ever would be. Somehow or another, she'd grown used to the seedy life she had- better yet, she'd grown to like it slightly. It was better than being locked up in the GeneCo tower. No, that didn't seem an option she was willing to take. Yet while Shilo gained comfort in her new life, another young woman in the world decided that it led little excitement.

Amber Sweet had earlier that night fooled her guards into thinking an illegal assassin was roaming the building, and while they locked her safely in her office, she escaped through the window. Dressed in a light wig and clothes she was pretty sure she would burn after that night, she walked the streets towards her familiar destination. No one looked twice at her, either because they did not know who she was or were unsure, and therefore dared not ask. She knew her way as clearly as she had before, even without the help of her bodyguards that she had always had before her father died.

The sound of voices became more and more apparent, and a calm came over Amber as she realised she was close to her home away from home. She checked her wig quickly before taking another step towards the alley and smiled. Her legs trembled at the idea of another hit of Z, another night of pointless sex. It was a better prospect than still sitting there in her office. As she walked down the alleyway, a few people stared at her in a drunken haze, sure they had seen her before but too high to take any notice and do anything about it.

She did not expect to see the Graverobber already occupied. Amber Sweet did not recognise the girl who sat demurely on the trash can, nor did she really care who she was. All that she cared about was it was this girl who already had the Graverobber's attention. Far too much for Amber to at all take a liking to the girl.

"It looks like you've got another customer," Amber heard the girl say to the Graverobber, who turned his head slightly. A smirk crept on his face and with a loud voice he pointedly called out to her.

"Didn't think we'd see you here again," he shouted over to her, turning many heads towards the two of them. "Been missing me?"

"About as much as you missed me."

"Not very much, then." Shilo looked up at the two, slightly stunned. Noticing, the Graverobber's smirk grew as he extended a hand, as if displaying Amber. "May I introduce you," he started, his speech directed at Amber, "to the girl who at any moment can ruin your business."

"She's Amber?" Shilo asked, surprised.

"It's pretty obvious, kid," the Graverobber said.

"The last time I saw you, you didn't have a face," Shilo said apologetically. "Kind of hard to tell at first."

"You know the wig's not doing you any favours," said the Graverobber, grabbing the wig from Amber's head. She attempted to take it from his hand, but in realisation of how childish she felt and looked, she stopped abruptly.

"What do you mean?"

"Everyone here noticed who you were without the wig," he explained. After a slight pause, he chuckled. "Well, apart from this one."

"I can't help it if she can't keep her face on straight," Shilo muttered. To her surprise, Amber laughed. Even the Graverobber was forced to arch an eyebrow in surprise.

"She's got nerve, I'll give her that," Amber said bluntly.

"I don't have a reason to be afraid of you," said Shilo. "You're the one who's got the reason to be most afraid."

"Forget that I just encouraged that nerve. Anyway," she said, turning back to the Graverobber, "I guess you know why I'm here."

"They don't give you enough down at GeneCo?" he replied. "Obviously not otherwise even you wouldn't be this stupid."

"Of course not, I-" Amber cut off her sentence, staring at Shilo briefly. She then looked again to the Graverobber and led him down towards a more enclosed are of the alleyway.

"You're frightened of talking in front of a little girl? Whatever happened to that bitch we used to know?"

"It's not to do with that. It's just a little more…private." The two came to a halt, and without even a single word or pause, Amber wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him hungrily. Just as quick as she had been, the Graverobber pushed Amber Sweet away from him, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth.

"Since when has that ever been private to you?"

"Since just now." Again, she moved to kiss him, but was dashed in her advances once more.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"How about I give you three guesses?"

"This isn't a game, Sweet."

"I never said it was," she said lustily, grabbing his jacket and pulling herself towards him. "There's never any chance in the office for this kind of thing, you have no idea how long I've been waiting for this."

"And you're obviously out of your mind. You don't even need any shots."

"I'll take as many as you want me to, you know that." Amber looked up at him in the manner she always had, as seductively as she could muster. The Graverobber could see the desperate glimmer in her eyes, though. "It's always a little better from you."

"Have you been drinking?"

"You know a drug taker never drinks," she laughed.

"Then start drinking," he said, beginning to walk away, but drawn back as she fiercely gripped his jacket. "I think it's time you go."

"You can't kick me out, it's a free country."

"Try thirty years ago, Sweet, you're the one who makes sure it isn't. Now get going before I end up calling those bodyguards of yours."

Amber looked at him bitterly, at last letting go of his jacket and instead watching him with rising hatred. The Graverobber was caught only momentarily by this anger, amused that he inspired it in her. Before he could leave, though, she murmured only a few small words:

"You didn't hate me before."

"I did," he said musingly. "But I've got to admit, not many of my customers are low enough to pay for drugs by fucking me."

The Graverobber turned to leave, but before he could take a single step, abrupt screaming could be heard. It did not disturb him in any way, as he had heard it many times before. Amber flinched, being the only out of the two to recognise the scream for what it truly was. She backed up slightly, pressing her back against the wall as if trying to hide. The Graverobber noticed the slight movement and shook his head.

"I was serious," he began, taking hold of her wrist. "You're leaving, now."

"We can't go out there yet," she said in a hushed voice.

"Kind of tough, isn't it? Because we're going."

It was then that a single scream that caught his notice sounded through the alleyway. He knew then what was going on down out of his sight. He peered around the corner of the wall, unable to fully step out in the danger of the idea that the guards may come for him. It didn't take him long to see two of them holding either of Shilo's arms, dragging her towards the limo at the end of the alley as it joined onto the road. The Graverobber knew that it was too late for him to do anything for her. There was one thing he could do to get even, though.

The Graverobber, still holding onto Amber's wrist without knowing it, suddenly pushed her into view of the guards, who upon seeing her seized her.

"Amber Sweet," one guard said as she pulled out a pair of handcuffs. "You are arrested on charges of drug dealing and trade in illegal sources of Zydrate."

"But-"

"Anything you say will be used against you in court," the other said as they carted her towards a car that was parked separately to the limo. Amber Sweet looked back resentfully at the Graverobber, who simply watched, amused, still hidden from the commotion in front of him.

God is a comedian playing to an audience too afraid to laugh


	9. Chapter 9

Shilo sat as calmly as she could in the limo, a guard either side of her. The last time she had been in this position was a year ago, when Rotti Largo had wished to speak to her on the eve of the Genetic Opera. She had long given up the idea of struggling. It did her no good, and she doubted she would get any of the respect required for survival by thrashing out. Shilo did not wonder what had happened to any of the others in the alleyway. She didn't think of Amber. She didn't think of the Graverobber. It didn't do her any good either to think of anyone at this time.

It did not take very long at all for Shilo to be forced into her office. Although it was late at night, it seemed that it was best for her to start at the very main room from where she could roam through the rest of the building. Anywhere but the exits, she assumed.

There was very little for Shilo to do. She was still getting to grips with the Admin tasks set before her, and she rathered that she would not have to trouble herself with them. It seemed Amber had taken care of much before she had left. Shilo very nearly thanked the air before her as if Amber were there. She then thought firstly that it was only air in front of her, not a person, and secondly that even if Amber were there, she would not wish to thank her for anything in the world.

Morning came, and so did night. This happened several times before Shilo could at all begin to comprehend the job she had been thrust into. Every evening she cursed Rotti Largo, and every morning she wondered more and more what had happened to the previous owner of GeneCo. Of course, no one knew. If anyone did, they certainly did not work directly for her. For a while it did not bother, but soon enough a natural paranoia that she had inherited from birth began to control her thoughts. Before long, she believed that Amber's whereabouts were being hidden from her.

Shilo was right in the respects that there were those who knew of Amber's whereabouts. The police section of GeneCo had arrested her on the night Shilo had been taken, although Shilo did not know it. They did not believe it was really something she specifically needed to know. Soon enough, though, her questions were answered. If she were truthful to herself, she was not at all surprised that Amber had ended up in jail so soon after the job loss. It was slightly more shocking that she hadn't been arrested before. Then again, Shilo doubted that as the owner of GeneCo, Amber would have gotten in trouble for anything she did.

No one dared to wait on Shilo for the next day, as they all knew she would wish to visit the new prisoner. They did not quite know why they feared Shilo seeing Amber, but a superstition spread across the building that something bad for business would happen if the meeting were to take part. Of course, this was why they did not go near her. If she were to catch one of them and request to be taken down to the prison cells, then they would be obliged to take her.

So, Shilo became more and more determined.

She didn't need to be crafty at all, she found. Not that she could have done so if needed. Being truthful to herself, she knew that the only reason she hadn't been taken in before was pure luck. Yet luck seemed to be on her side, despite everything she had been through- she had decided thoroughly that fate and luck were utterly different things, and more often than not would lead a person in two completely different directions, luck being the path she preferred to choose.

And so, in the late evening of a late Thursday evening, Shilo wandered through the hallways around the GeneCo building, waiting for someone to accidentally cross her path. She was almost amused by the look of shock on the secretary's face that eventually found her. The woman stumbled backwards, as if she could easily run from the fact that she were not invisible, but relented and stood wearily in front of Shilo.

"Miss Wallace," she stammered, clutching the folders she carried to her chest and curtseying oddly.

"You wouldn't mind helping me, now, would you?" Shilo said sweetly, laughing inwardly as the woman thrust her tongue into her cheek painfully, wincing at the request.

"Anything, miss," she replied reluctantly.

"Then I should like you to take me down to Amber Sweet," Shilo ordered, her tone still polite, though she saw no point in it. The secretary pushed her glasses up her nose and with a sigh, nodded. With that, Shilo followed her down the hallways, further down into the building. When she had been living with her late father, Shilo did not expect that there was anything else in the GeneCo building apart from dull offices. As things are in life, she was very wrong. As they went further down, the dark red carpets turned to flat stone, and the walls turned from a light cream wallpaper to dark rock. If she were childish, she would have thought that she were in a children's fairy story.

The secretary pointed Shilo down towards the end of the hall, her face as still as she could make it. Shilo assumed this was an indication that she was to walk by herself. Not that she minded. Perhaps this conversation would be much more difficult if someone were hovering over her shoulder.

The hallway was not as long as she expected. Only a minute later, she found Amber's cell. Shilo was ignored by the woman who sat sullenly on the wooden bench in the cell for a while, but cleared her throat pointedly, causing Amber to look up, alarmed.

"What are you doing here?" Amber asked, quite rudely in Shilo's opinion.

"I might ask you the same thing. No one's told me."

"Drug dealing," she replied simply. Well, she had no reason to be ashamed, it wasn't much of a secret.

"And I'm here to speak to you."

"What about?"

"Your job position." Amber pulled a face, rather bitterly and confused.

"Where have you been?" she asked uncouthly. "Your job position, remember?"

"Not for long," Shilo said.

"My father made sure it would be."

"Rotti Largo obviously didn't count on you."

"He counted on me warming the seat for you," Amber said. "That's it."

"He didn't count on you being able to get yourself back into the seat, though."

"Well, he was right then." Amber looked around pointedly at the room. "Drug abuse. Drug dealing. I'm not getting out of here any time soon."

"You don't think very much of yourself, do you?"

"So you came to taunt me and then insult me?"

"No. I came to tell you to think of a way out."

"If you haven't noticed," she began, tapping the wall with her fist and banging her foot on the floor, "it's concrete floors, stone walls. There aren't any windows in here. I'm not getting out."

"I don't mean digging yourself out, or climbing out. I mean thinking your way out."

"I thought you were sane enough. Guess I was wrong."

"I'm just as sane as you are," Shilo said.

"Well, I must have gone mad then."

"You've got a brilliant mind, I'm sure," Shilo told her. "No one can be that ditsy."

"And you're telling me that's not an insult?"

"I'm telling you to think. I know you're crafty enough to do it. I was told what you did to cover my dad's death. Of course, I didn't think that much of it, but it was clever. I'd never have come up with it."

"Then obviously you don't think very much."

"Which is why I'm asking you to do it." Amber scowled at the girl before speaking again.

"Why would I want to help you?"

"Why wouldn't you?"

"Because you're the reason everything in my life went wrong," she spat. "My dad liked you better than he liked his own kids. Our mother left to have you and leave us for your stupid father. You've twisted that stupid Graverobber's mind so I'm repellent to him."

"That's none of my business. None at all."

"It's your fault," Amber stated, determined.

"So you know why you don't want to help me," Shilo verified. "But I know the very reason you want to help me."

"Why would I want to help you?"

"To get out of here." Amber thought, then nodded.

"Go on."

"If I get out of here, you're the only person they have left to carry on in GeneCo. So get me out, and you'll go too."

"It was far too much work," Amber muttered.

"So you've miraculously rehabilitated yourself from Zydrate?"

"I-" Amber cut herself of, her mouth opening and closing as if the words could not leave her. She closed her lips quickly, folding her arms. "Fine," she continued. "I'll think of something."

"I'll come down again tomorrow, then."

God is a comedian playing to an audience too afraid to laugh


	10. Chapter 10

Days passed where Amber Sweet thought, and Shilo did not receive any ideas for how to escape. A few ideas of her own entered her head, but all included some form of witch, which were sadly out of supply. Paranoia started to take hold of her, and Shilo became more and more irate with the lack of ideas and answers that she so sorely needed.

"What can you expect from me?" Amber asked bitterly. "I'm stuck in here all day, it's not like I'm at my prime."

"Plenty more time to think."

"But there isn't anything! I can't think of a way out of it all."

"Don't they always say that the simplest is always the best? You've probably thought of some simple things."

"Oh, ha ha. Well, you haven't exactly thought of anything, have you?"

"Nothing that'd work. I've never been all too good at these sort of plans."

"That's pretty obvious," Amber commented, but she paused thoughtfully. "There is one idea, but I'm pretty sure you'll say no."

"Like you know what I'd say to it? I'm riskier than you think."

"Not this risky."

"Just tell me it, Sweet." Amber sighed, but spoke nonchalantly.

"How about you die?"

"Is that the idea or a threat?"

"Both."

Shilo paused as well, thinking the idea through. She then shook her head.

"That's just stupid."

"Really? Quite sensible in my opinion. You wouldn't be the owner of GeneCo any more and I would be. It's exactly what you asked for."

"Yes, but I'd rather be alive to acknowledge it."

"You didn't specify that. I'm just saying, if you were dead, you wouldn't have to stay here."

"Can't you think of a way for me to do this without being dead?"

Amber smiled slightly, but seemed doubtful. All of a sudden, she nodded proudly.

"Fake it."

"My death?"

"Well, yeah, I'm not going to ask you to fake anything else." Shilo nodded lightly, thinking over the idea. She herself was quite doubtful, though it seemed pretty good. After all, no one would ask any questions if they thought she was dead. She could go anywhere if no one was looking for her.

"Why couldn't you recommend faking my death first?" she asked curiously. Amber shrugged.

"The thought didn't come to me."

"Next time, think about trying not to kill someone in your plans."

"I'll keep that in mind," Amber said, rolling her eyes. Her eyebrows raised slightly as Shilo started to turn away. "Wait, you don't wanna figure out how to do it?"

"I think I'd be best to decide that. I don't trust you that much, even now."

"A wise choice. I admit, I'd probably throw you off the roof."

"Which is why you're staying in there till I'm gone."

Amber nodded, accepting the fact quite easily as Shilo walked away back to her office. After all, there was no time to waste. Faking your death, she decided, was no easy task.

There were many ways to do it. She could pretend to poison herself, but then her body would just be sitting around. Shilo doubted she could get out of a coffin that easily. She could throw a dummy out of the window and pretend it was her, but that again would lead to some suspicion- especially if anyone could see that it wasn't actually human. She could throw a real body out of the window, but she didn't much like the idea of killing anyone.

With minimum ideas left, Shilo found that they all included a certain person. Though she loathed to do it, she found that she had no choice but to pick up the phone and call the one person that she had dreaded to think of again. The Graverobber. He was not at all shocked when she called him. Not in the least. Of course, it was entirely his ego that led him to think this. He didn't believe her at all when Shilo told him their conversation would have nothing to do with sex. It did, but each time it was only the Graverobber that brought it up.

"Do you wanna shut up for a minute?" Shilo snapped down the phone, having sent her guards from the room. "For the last time, I'm not going to fuck you."

"You say that now," came the reply, and Shilo could almost see a smug smile on his face. "Fine then, I'll humour you. What is it you want, then?"

"Your help."

"Help with-"

"Not that. Help with getting me out of here."

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Nothing really. I just want you to be there when I give you notice."

"For-"

"Not sex. You've got a car or something, haven't you?"

"Unless you're looking for a quick getaway, yes."

"Well, I'll be kind of dead by that point, so I suppose I don't need a quick getaway." There was a pause down the line.

"Is this some kind of body disposal thing?"

"No, I'll technically be alive. Just kind of dead."

"Are you gonna explain this?"

"No. It's best not to. Just promise me you'll be around the building tomorrow night."

"You're not going to tell me a specific time either, are you?"

"Nope."

"Right," he said, and with that he put the phone down. Shilo stared into space for a bit before putting her own phone back on the receiver.

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The only things in Shilo's office that proved her death were two items. The first was a letter, which Shilo had written, telling the reader that a madman had entered the building undetected and forced her to write the letter. No one would have believed it, had she not also forced the Graverobber to bring an arm from the morgue. With that body part laying bloodily on the floor, everyone believed it.

Reluctantly on the guard's part, Amber was released. She did not know where her brothers had gone, but rumours had spread that they had decided on a career in show business. Amber wasn't quite sure why, but was certain they'd be popular. Even if they had to kill to get to the top. It seemed probable, after all.

Not a single person ever asked about Shilo Wallace again. No one saw the need to. She didn't stay in the city, and instead left an hour after getting out the building. Why an hour? Well, she had to repay the Graverobber some way or another. He never heard from her again. All he was certain of was that somewhere, she was teasing a guy just as much as she had with him.

How he envied that man.

God is a comedian playing to an audience too afraid to laugh


End file.
